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‘No, not planning,’ he said grimly. ‘I am coming in. And there’s no need to look so horrified, Amber—I’m not going to jump on you the moment we get inside.’
Oddly enough, his assurance provided Amber with little comfort. Was it possible that one episode of sex had been enough to kill his desire for her for ever? Because the man who had been so hot and hungry for her last night was deliberately keeping his distance from her this morning.
She waited until they were inside and then she turned to him, noticing the dark shadows around his eyes. As if he had slept as badly as her. ‘So. What’s the verdict?’
His mouth was unsmiling and his voice was heavy. ‘I think we should get married.’
Amber blinked in astonishment and, even though she knew it was insane, she couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of hope which had started dancing at the edges of her heart. She pictured clouds of confetti and a lacy dress, and a rugged face bending down to kiss her. She swallowed. ‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Navy eyes narrowed. ‘I know it’s far from ideal but it seems the only sensible solution.’
‘I think I need to sit down,’ said Amber faintly, sinking onto one of the white leather sofas beneath the penetrating brilliance of his gaze. And now that her heart had stopped pounding with a hope she realised was stupid, she tried to claw back a little dignity. ‘Whatever gave you that idea that I would want to marry you?’
His gaze burned into her. ‘Didn’t it enter your mind for a moment that giving me your virginity would trouble my conscience? I feel a responsibility towards you—’
‘Then don’t—’
‘You don’t understand,’ he interrupted savagely. ‘I have betrayed the trust of your father by taking advantage of you.’ His voice hardened. ‘And trust is a very big deal to me.’
‘He won’t know. Nobody will know.’
‘I will know,’ he said grimly. ‘And the only way I can see of legitimising what has just happened is to make you my temporary wife.’
She stared at him defiantly. ‘So you want to marry me just to make yourself feel better?’
‘Not entirely. It would have certain advantages for you, too.’
She opened her mouth and knew she shouldn’t say what she was about to say—but why not? He’d seen her naked, hadn’t he? He’d been deep inside her body in a way that nobody else had ever been. He’d heard her cry out her pleasure with that broken kind of joy as she’d wrapped her legs around his back. What did she have to lose? ‘What, like sex?’
But he shook his head, his hair glinting blue-black in the watery spring sunshine. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Most emphatically not sex. I don’t want the complications of that. This will purely be a marriage of convenience—a short-lived affair with a planned ending.’
She screwed up her eyes, trying not to react. One brief sexual encounter and already he’d had enough of her? ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, desperately trying to hide the hurt she felt at his rejection.
He walked over to the window and stared out at the view for a moment before turning back to face her. ‘Your father wanted you to stand on your own two feet—and as a wealthy divorcee you’ll be able to do exactly that.’
‘A wealthy divorcee?’ she echoed hoarsely.
‘Sure. What else did you think would happen—that twenty-five years down the line we’d be toasting each other with champagne and playing with the grandkids?’ He gave a cynical smile. ‘We’ll get married straight away—because a whirlwind marriage always makes a gullible world think it’s high romance.’
‘But you don’t, I suppose?’
His mouth hardened. ‘I’m a realist, Amber—not a romantic.’
‘Me, too,’ she lied.
‘Well, that makes it a whole lot easier, doesn’t it? And you know what they say...marry in haste, repent at leisure. Only nowadays there’s no need to do that. We’ll split after three months and nobody will be a bit surprised. I’ll settle this apartment on you and agree to some sort of maintenance. And if you want my advice, you should use the opportunity to go off and do something useful with your life—not go back to your former, worthless existence. Your father will see you blossom and flourish with your new-found independence. He’s hardly in a position to berate you for a failed marriage—and my conscience will be clear.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ she said slowly.
‘I deal in solutions.’ His gaze drifted to her face. ‘What do you say, Amber?’
She looked away, noticing a red wine stain on the white leather of the sofa as he waited for her answer. The trouble was that on some level she wasn’t averse to marrying him and she wasn’t quite sure why. Was it because she felt safe and protected whenever he was around? Or because she was hoping he’d change his mind about the no-sex part? Surely a virile man like Conall wouldn’t be prepared to coexist platonically with a woman—no matter how fake or how short their relationship was intended to be.
And look what he was offering in return. At least as a divorcee she would have a certain respectability. A badge of honour that someone had once wanted her enough to marry her...
Except that he didn’t. Not really. He didn’t love her and he didn’t want her.
That old familiar feeling of panic flooded through her. It felt just like that time when she’d been shipped off to her dad’s after her mother had died. He hadn’t wanted her, either, not really—and neither did Conall. It was a grim proposition to have to face until she considered the alternative. No money. No qualifications. No control. She swallowed. In an ideal world she would turn around and walk out, but where would she go?
